


This Heavy Lightness

by nonky



Series: The Kind Series [2]
Category: Blindspot (TV)
Genre: F/M, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 13:43:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10023338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonky/pseuds/nonky
Summary: Jane had months of racing thoughts and feelings she felt drop away. That was another plane and she liked floating above it. She didn't compare to Oscar, or wish for Weller. She didn't feel bad for her pleasure, or wonder at it. It was immense and it was hers. Oliver wanted to give it to her, and she wanted to give him his own.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for smut between Jane and Oliver, which should be obvious, but I'll make it really clear. Jane and Oliver have sex, and I'm not sorry I wrote it because she deserves good feelings. Feel free to skip reading or read without kudos/comments as a Jeller protest.

His name was a good omen for the first man she asked into her bed. If nothing else, it was silly to strip him on her sofa and then balk at the idea of going somewhere comfortable.

Jane fell to the bed underneath him gracefully, her arm still across her breasts. He followed with a pause, waiting for her to settle and invite him back with the spread of her knees. She reached for him, pulling him down tight to her chest, only then taking her arm away. He told himself he wouldn't look or touch until she was comfortable. It would mean more when they both wanted it.

They were good at kissing, the movements natural and familiar. Her neck eased into the pillow and his fingers could play in her short waves of hair. Oliver tried to stay still, his body shifting with hers but not pushing for more. 

"I'm ready," Jane said meekly. She looked at him with bright eyes, and he lifted up as she wiggled her knees higher around him. 

"What do you like," he asked. 

"Go slow at first. I want to remember you, gentle and peaceful and warm."

It wasn't even dirty but it hit him like the most graphic imagery. Jane bit her lip as he pushed inside, taking his time as she sighed around him. She went a little too still for a few seconds, her breath stuttering as she fought nerves. He almost expected her to stop him, but she exhaled and took him deep with a pull from inside. 

"God, you're soft." He sounded almost alarmed by her. 

"You are not soft," Jane said, husking a tiny laugh he echoed a moment later. 

She found his mouth and kissed him with sweet little pecks, tracing his whole lip before biting at the corner. One of his arms crawled under her back, lifting her slightly. She angled herself and they were moving, thrusts as delicate as a wedding night. 

It was a simmer, building gradually. She lifted to him and he went, trying to give her enough without breaking the mood of tenderness.

"Is this good?"

She nodded. "I like it. You're not hurting me. It's just my first time with somebody new since my memories were gone."

Oliver opened his eyes and looked into her face, watching her as he came up to the quick. "I didn't know that," he said. "Now I'm a bit nervous."

"Don't," Jane said, smiling. "One of us has to not be nervous."

She held on to him differently, spreading her hands across his back to steady herself. Oliver rubbed her nose with his own, and kissed her more forcefully. "Sorry," he said. "Complete confidence here, this is going to be magical."

She hummed agreement. Jane's body moved effortlessly, her heart racing from emotions more than exertion. She pushed away little thoughts that didn't matter, big and small worries from the world outside. He felt good, he cared and he looked at her with only warmth. She been so cold sometimes and once it fled she felt so much better. 

They were being careful with one another, and she had made him paranoid. Speed would be welcome, or roughness, or just a long swaying time of being filled with the slightest hard press at the end of a thrust. She didn't know her preferences from before, but she liked Oliver. 

He traced fingertips down her side, stopping at her hip to knead in rhythm with their motion. Oliver tested her with a fraction of force, sending an extra shimmer of pleasure up her spine. 

Jane nodded her head and he did it again, everything lasting just a second longer and rippling out across her body. He made an indistinct sound and then that was their tempo, both chasing the lingering pleasure with the next until it was ongoing. They had synced up, motions just as gentle but denser and without questions. 

She rolled from her hips and pressed at his lower back, keeping more of each thrust and telling Oliver he couldn't go away too far. Jane tipped her head back and felt his mouth under her chin. She panted around him as he flexed inside her, giving a shove with his hips that made her moan. 

Oliver went for her hair, no longer following each wave gently. He gathered it at the end and let her own movement pull as she turned her mouth to meet him. They had generated heat, sweating in the joins of their bodies. 

Jane had months of racing thoughts and feelings she felt drop away. That was another plane and she liked floating above it. She didn't compare to Oscar, or wish for Weller. She didn't feel bad for her pleasure, or wonder at it. It was immense and it was hers. Oliver wanted to give it to her, and she wanted to give him his own. 

"Oh, God, I was trying to be gentle," he said, tone strained. 

"I like this," Jane said breathlessly. She cupped behind his head and looked into his eyes. "I don't want you to stop."

His mouth went soft, and she worried he might go too far, say something she wasn't prepared for. Oliver blinked and gave a quirk of his mouth as he licked the pad of his thumb. "I didn't expect any of this, Jane, it's more than I could have hoped."

She was on the cusp of coming, feeling stupid with it and tender with Oliver. He wasn't being out of line but they weren't in love, either. "You were my first nice surprise," she said sincerely. 

They hadn't stopped moving, hips frantic throughout. Oliver bent over her to cover her mouth, his damp thumb slipping across her belly to roll her clit. Jane let herself fold up smaller, riding out the waves of helplessness as her muscles twitched and furled. She made her legs and pussy tighten around Oliver and he hissed a laboured breath along her cheek. 

"Come for me."

It took a few moments more, but she did, with an inelegant groan and a weird ballet of hands and elbows grappling to bring herself up into it. Oliver gave a shudder and his hand slapped back to her hip, lingering with a frozen expression of flooded bliss. 

Jane dropped back, wrapping him into an embrace for a few seconds before common sense returned. 

"Oliver, I'm sorry, but the condom," she whispered. 

He peeled away reluctantly, smiling as he rose to his knees and she opened her legs. They both sighed as he pulled out, and she had a strange urge to keep her knees curled a little too tight to her body and hold on to the feeling of strain. 

Oliver sat down on the edge of the bed, his shoulders moving a little quickly as he calmed. "It's the strangest thing," he said, standing slowly. "Now I should be able to actually feel complete confidence, but I'm just nervous in a different way."

He went into the bathroom and she looked idly behind him. He wasn't heavily muscled, but he was nicely shaped and his neck always smelled like his musky cologne nearly rubbed off on his shirt. She could feel for him, and there could be something big and real there given enough time and the right circumstances. 

She realized she was bare and pulled the sheets up, turning them back on one side to invite Oliver into bed. He returned with a glass of water they shared, trading sips until he put it on the table. 

"Happy," he asked. 

"Yeah," Jane told him. "Very, but I get what you mean. Mostly happy, a little nervous."

Oliver lifted his arm and she put her head on his shoulder. "I'm sensing I'm not kicked out, but I'm also not invited to sleep over," he said. 

She cringed. "Is that okay? I don't - I literally don't remember sharing a bed with anyone, ever. I think it would be too much."

He kissed her, softly and with patience. "A real man can cuddle up and go home. I don't want more than you want to give me."

Jane shut her eyes and enjoyed knowing he meant every word without obligation. To Oliver, she'd only ever been herself, no false identities or complex layers of misdirection underlying their conversation. The most cryptic he'd been was dropping restaurant names instead of asking her to dinner.

"There's no rush," she said. It might not be true for anything else, but it was for Oliver. 

"I'll wait for you to say goodnight, then."

Jane waited for the urge to ask him to leave. She wasn't sure it would be so bad to have him sleep over.


End file.
